The odds of a chance
by Ms. May
Summary: Scottland doesn't know what it is, but there's something about Belarus. Ofcourse he can't go about courting her like a civilized person, no picking a fight with her is obviously the best course. This is a crack ship request. In the story i use their human names, not country names, so don't get confused. Rated M for some language and themes.


Hey, just a few quick words before we begin. I'm kind of awful at grammar and spelling so feel free to correct me. The character's names.

Alaster: Scottland

Natalia: Belarus

Elizabeta: Hungary

Anri: Belgium

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Scotland: The odds of a chance

Ch: 1

It wasn't very often that I found myself challenged by things. Not outmatched, odds such as those never interested me. Things that were too easy were just as easily brushed off. It's sort of like darts. I liked to play when there was a twist, but when the odds were stacked against me I often rolled my eyes and just played it my way.

However she had other ideas. She was beautiful, in a kind of dangerous way. Long platinum blond hair and dark blue eyes like arctic water, she held a kind of intimidation with every look, though maybe not everyone thought that. Her dress was dark purple, and her apron was a neat pressed white to match the bow on top of her head. Like a porcelain doll, she was poised. Her black shoes were always polished, and her white skin was always perfect. I could never quite figure out what it was about her that caught my attention.

For no particular reason I found myself watching her. School wouldn't start for another ten minutes for so, so she busied herself talking to Elizabeta and Anri. Both Anri and Elizabeta wore the school uniforms, though Elizabeta wore a knee length skirt that puffed out a bit and didn't wear the standard jacket. It's a shame Natalia wasn't wearing the standard uniform; she would have looked great in a mini skirt.

"You should stop staring at me, I'm already spoken for." Belarus spoke with poison in her voice.

"Oh really, you call a petty crush spoken for?" I leaned coolly against the lockers. Her eyes froze over, but her pursed lips broke rank and formed an ugly scowl. I could practically see her burning like the end of my cigarette.

"Take it back." The words leaked from the cracks in the ice.

"I don't like to lie." I said meeting her gaze full force.

"I said. . ." I never truly know what caught my attention about her, but I think it was the knife. "Take it back." She pressed me back against the locker and held the knife to my throat. I moved my jaw a bit so the tip of the cigarette pressed against her soft cheek. It broke her concentration long enough for me to get on top. The knife didn't come out of her hand very easily so I satisfied myself with just pinning her wrist to the locker. I pinned her other arm in a similar fashion and leaned my head against hers, just loosely keeping her there.

"You're a tougher than you look." I conceited. In response she ground her heel into my foot. My teeth sliced through the end of my cigarette and I had to spit it out to keep from swallowing the tobacco. Maybe I should have watched where I was spitting, but the look on her face almost made it worth it. Her eyes narrowed and with surprising strength she kicked me in stomach.

I knocked into a kid behind me and made starkly aware of the circle of kids around us. However Natalia was advancing, knife in hand. I stood up a tiny bit straighter and stuck my hands in my pocket, trying to look relaxed. She stopped a few feet away from me and pointed the knife, signaling for me to come on.

It didn't take long for me to spot her game, keeping me at arms length so that she could use that knife of hers. That's why I had to get close. I approached her, just close enough to be outside the range of the knife. We locked eyes and for a second I couldn't move. There was just something about the way she looked at me that drew me in. She took advantage of my momentary lapse in concentration and stepped forward. Just barely fast enough I moved out of the way, her knife just nicking my arm. Stepping to the inside I grabbed her skirt and pulled her close to me. She tried to step back, but I slipped my leg around hers and moved my arm around the small of her back. In retaliation she slid her free hand into my hair and grabbed a fist full of my hair. The knife wiggled its way into the very limited free space between us.

"What are you going to do now Ned?" Her breath smelt like bitter mint and felt cool as it ran against the rising heat in my face. I saw the smirk that turned the corners of her mouth, but I didn't give a fuck.

My body tensed and I prepared to shove us apart, but she kept her hold on me. Instead of letting go, she turned my hold against me, and retangled our legs to her advantage. I fell to the ground with her on top of me. My cigarettes slipped out of my jacket pocket a bit. The knife had stuck into the ground next to me, pinning the edge of my blazer. Our faces were deadly close, her cool breathe against my lips. She was on her knees, hands pinning my wrists on either side of my head. For a brief second I met her arctic eyes.

She quickly looked down, searching for something else to look at. Twists of platinum blond hair fell around us like white streamers. The white bow on her head was slightly askew. And her apron was wrinkled with the slightest spec of blood dotting the edge. I fought the urge to speak, and contented with laying there, her straddling me.

Then she did something I didn't expect. She bent down, biting the butt of one of my cigarettes. Then she sat back, perilously close to my vital region. Blond hair fell in front of her hair obscuring her eyes. She pulled the knife from my side and stood up, meeting every watching kid with a fierce glare. They scattered like ants and soon we were alone in the hallway. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a bell rang.

I stood up, never tearing my eyes from her. She didn't turn around until she was sure that I was standing. When she did, we locked eyes again. I took out my lighter and lit the end of her cigarette. Her chest rose as she took a single huff, breathing out the familiar smell of burns tinged with a bitter mint. With a single fluid motion, she took her cigarette from her mouth, and extinguished it with the toe of her scuffed black shoes.

I turned and walked towards my classroom. It's very often that I'm challenged. As my steps began to fall into syncopation with the distant click of her heels, I was reminded how much I like a twist.

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This was a really hard thing for me to write because of characterization and stuff, so your critiques would be deeply apreciated. Review! Do it. i'm serious. Do it.


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